


Future Past

by house_of_lantis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, James "Bucky" Barnes/OFC - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/OFC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the late-1930s to mid-1940s and then in Present Day; A series of interconnected short stories about Steve and Bucky and sexual discovery before Steve joins the Army, and Project Rebirth, USO tours, World War II, Howling Commandos, Peggy, loss, death, and resurrection in the 21st century. This fic started out to be a story about how Steve Rogers wasn't a virgin, but it's actually turning into a long, slow burn story of the people Steve loved, lost, and found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings to be updated as they happen: Steve/OFC, Bucky/OFC, Steve/Bucky, Steve/Tony, Steve/Bucky/Tony, non-explicit Steve/Howard/Bucky

Natasha: All right, I have a question for you, of which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it, you know?

Steve: What?

Natasha: Was that your first kiss since 1945?

Steve: That bad, huh?

Natasha: I didn’t say that.

Steve: Well, it kind of sounds like that’s what you’re saying.

Natasha: No, I didn’t. I just wondered how much practice you had.

Steve: I don’t need practice.

Natasha: Everybody needs practice.

Steve: It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, I’m not dead.

 

  *   _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_



 

 

***

 

**August, 1938**

**Brooklyn**

 

Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his work pants as he slowly took the steps to his second floor walk-up. It was nearly nine at night, long enough for Bucky to make time with his girl, and Steve wasn’t going to take another walk through the neighborhood. He’d just sit on the steps and wait them out if Bucky still needed the apartment.

He was relieved when he saw that the necktie was off the doorknob and Steve turned the knob, walking into the apartment. The kitchen was a wreck, remnants of Bucky trying to be romantic and making dinner for his date, music from the hit parade filtered scratchily out from the radio, and the living room was foggy with smoke.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky called, sitting on the window still of the open window, one leg out on the balcony and one leg in. He was wearing his good pants, white tank top, and suspenders. His dark wavy hair was loose and sweat-damp, curly bangs clinging to his forehead. His face and shoulders were flushed, like he was exerting himself, and Steve realized that Bucky probably had been _exerting_  himself with Dolores.

He looked pleased and relaxed and Steve let out a huff of envy, rolling his eyes. “I take it Dolores had a good time?”

Bucky chuckled, low and smug. “All my girls have a good time with me, Rogers.”

That was partly true; he had witnessed girls gossiping about which lucky girl was Bucky’s latest date. He had witnessed older women flirting with Bucky and Bucky flirted back with an ease that was charming and confident without crossing the line – or worse, gaining his mother’s attention on his varied social life.

“Did you walk her home?”

“Of course I did, what do you take me for, huh?”

Steve kicked Bucky’s feet off the sill to sit down, leaning against opposite Bucky. “How many of my asthma cigarettes did you and Dolores go through?”

“I’ll pick up some more for you on Friday.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning towards Bucky and plucking the cigarette from his fingers. He took a short inhale of the heavy smoke, just giving his lungs a taste, and then coughing roughly. He pressed his hand against his mouth as his eyes teared up.

Bucky took the cigarette from him and patted Steve’s back. “You all right there? Jesus Christ, I swear you’re going to end up coughing up a lung one day.”

Steve made a face and took in a slow, steady breath. “Feels like it.”

“So what did you watch at the pictures?”

Steve made a face. “Newsreels talked about that Nazis in Germany trying to do some rabble rousing in Poland.” He let out a deep breath. “Might be war soon. You thinking you’ll join up?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, looking out the window. “Can’t think to just sit back if there’s another world war in Europe.”

“With your schooling, you could probably be an NCO, do some real good for the boys in the Army.” He grinned, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “You know I’d follow you into war any day…if they even let me join up.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about war, pal, tell me about the new picture you saw.”

“New one called ‘ _Algiers_.’ It was really good, Buck.”

“That the one with Hedy Lamarr?”

“Yep.”

Bucky leaned his head back on the sill and tucked the end of the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, biting down with his back teeth. “Damn, that Hedy Lamarr is a real looker, you know? What was the movie about?”

“About a French thief called Pepe Le Moko; he ran off to Algeria and became a sort of leader,” Steve said, leaning back, bracing his feet under Bucky’s thigh. “The French came looking for him, but the locals weren’t having it. So Pepe is kind of stuck, like he’s already in prison because he can’t go nowhere or the French will pick him up; and then he meets Hedy Lamarr’s character, Gaby, and falls in love with her, but he’s already got a girl, Ines, who gets jealous.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “What kind of putz can’t juggle two women? It’s just two! Try dating five or six at the same time and hoping and praying that they don’t all know each other or know that they’re all dating me!”

“You’re a real gentleman,” Steve said, sarcastically. He looked out into the narrow alleyway that was the view outside of their apartment. “Some of us just want to have one girl. The right one anyhow.”

“You’ll find the right girl, Stevie, you just got to be patient, is all,” Bucky said, kindly. “You’re the kind of man that a girl would bring home to meet her parents. If I were a dame, I’d take you home right now. Ma would be planning our walk down the aisle as soon as she met the likes of you.”

A part of Steve warmed at the idea that Bucky thought he was worthy of that kind of attention.

“You’d be one ugly dame, Buck.”

Bucky kicked Steve’s thigh. “You take that back, punk.”  

Steve grinned. “What about you?”

“Me? I’m too bad to bring home, pal,” he said, chortling, his shoulders shaking in pleasure at his own joke. “Dames like a bad boy; and it ain’t to bring me home to meet the family for Sunday night supper.”

“Don’t you want to settle down, have a family of your own someday?”

“Sure, someday,” Bucky said, shrugging. “You know ma’s going to make me settle down with a nice girl. But that’s not for a few more years and I mean to have my fun until then.”

Steve cocked his head and stared at his best friend. He knew Bucky was mostly all talk; he was raised right by the Church and Mrs. Winifred Barnes, and Mrs. Barnes would beat him to hear him talk about women like that. Bucky was a good man, loyal and principled, and he always treated the girls he made time with respectfully. They all knew that Bucky wasn’t looking to settle down and he was the neighborhood good-time-boy, from what Steve overhead from local girls whispering about Bucky.

“You know, one day I’d like to know what it’s like to be a bad boy.”

Bucky stared at him, his mouth opening in surprise. “You couldn’t be a bad boy; not with that angel face. Nobody would ever take you seriously.”

“Nobody ever takes me seriously **now** ,” he said, letting out a gruff laugh.

“Come on, Steve, not everyone is meant to be a bad boy.”  

“So what’s your secret?”

Bucky gave him a sly, private grin; blue eyes shifting slightly. “You really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

He watched as Bucky finished the cigarette, flicking the butt out the window to the street below. He scooted closer and smiled, secretive and wicked, as he pressed the index and middle fingers of his left hand under Steve’s nose.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve said, turning his head and batting Bucky’s hand away.

“Just take it easy and take a gander at that, Rogers,” he murmured, eyes dipping down to watch as Steve inhaled slowly.

He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to smell. All he could get was the familiar tang from the cigarette.

“Keep smelling,” Bucky told him, turning his fingers so that the calloused pads of his fingertips rested gently against Steve’s upper lip.

Steve took a few experimental sniffs, trying to distinguish between the scent of the nicotine and the pomade that Bucky used…until there was something else, something that was musky, just underneath the familiar Bucky scents. He sniffed again, holding Bucky’s wrist and pressing his nose against the warm skin.

“Something…I smell something…”

Bucky’s grin widened and he licked his lips, moving closer to Steve. “That’s Dolores.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something and gasped when Bucky pressed his fingers inside Steve’s mouth, stroking his tongue gently. His fingers tasted stale and salty on Steve’s tongue; he was too shocked to do anything but curl his lips around Bucky’s fingers and suck.

“The key to being a bad boy is to give the girls pleasure but not take anything away from them, especially if they really are good girls, the kind who want to save themselves for marriage like the Church says,” Bucky said, his thumb braced against Steve’s jaw, stroking his skin gently. “I think that’s kind of a stupid rule, what with us men running around and fucking anyone we want, and it’s just boys being boys; but if a girl does it, she ain’t a good girl no more and her eternal soul is going to burn in Hell. If we can fool around before marriage, why can’t girls?”

Steve nodded in agreement, curling his arms in front of his pants. His cock was getting hard from the feel of Bucky’s fingers in his mouth, the tastes and smells filling his head, and the sound of Bucky’s low, gravelly voice in his ears.

He felt his mouth filling with spit and he swallowed, trying to figure out how to keep his teeth from biting down on Bucky’s fingers and swallowing around them. Steve wasn’t really sure what else he’s supposed to be tasting, but he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as Bucky chuckled, low and sexy, stroking his fingers in and out of Steve’s mouth.

“There’s nothing like the taste of a girl when you’re down between her soft, creamy thighs. Bad boys put their mouths there, you lick them and suck them, get them wet and crazy. You get them moaning and they start pulling on your hair. Sometimes, they’ll let you put your fingers inside where they’re warm and tight,” he said, pulling his fingers out of Steve’s mouth and wiping his hand on his pants.

He winked at Steve and then settled back against the window sill, smiling.

Steve pulled his legs closer, folding his knees up to hide his hardness from Bucky.

“You think that’s dirty, Stevie?” Bucky chuckled, eyes bright with amusement. “Did I shock you, pal?”

“I’d do it, too; but no girl in her right mind would ever go with a guy like me,” Steve said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Bucky gave him a long, considering look. “You know, Dolores has a friend, Susan, she’s a pretty girl, kind of plain compared to a doll like Dolores, but she’s a good girl. Big green eyes, curly brown hair. Maybe you’ll like her, maybe she’ll like you. We could take the girls on a double date, go see the pictures together, and then bring them back here. Me and Dolores can take the bedroom and we’ll leave the couch for you and Susan. We’ll show the girls a real nice time, what do you say?”

Steve could still taste Bucky in his mouth. He glanced up at his best friend and sat up straight, meeting the playful challenge in Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Sure, set it up,” he said, keeping his tone casual.

Bucky broke into a gentle, knowing laugh. He fell back against the window sill and nudged Steve’s leg with his foot.

“You liked that, huh?”

Steve blushed and ducked his head slightly. “What’s not to like?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: For accuracy sake, I tried to research 1930s slang on all things related to sex; especially Bucky trying to explain oral sex to Steve! Hehe. All mistakes are mine; or I’ve taken a lot of literary/artistic license.

 

Natasha: You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she’ll probably say yes.

Steve: That’s why I don’t ask.

Natasha: Too shy or too scared?

Steve: Too busy!

 

  *          Captain America: The Winter Soldier



 

**September, 1938**

 

Steve and Bucky walked Susan and Dolores back to his apartment after taking the girls for chocolate malts after the pictures. Bucky grabbed Dolores’s hand and tugged her along behind him as they ran up the stairs, full of giggles and sneaking knowing looks at each other. Bucky winked over his shoulder at Steve as Steve and Susan followed at a more sedate pace.

Susan was prettier than Bucky described and shyer than Dolores. She wore a pretty green dress that made her eyes appear more green than hazel and he found the smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose to be really quite fetching. When he sat next to her in the outdoor tables at the automat, he could smell her perfume, something that reminded him of white flowers, and he was distractingly trying to sniff her to figure out which white flower it was before Bucky kicked him sharply under the table and gave him a meaningful look.

“Oh, wouldn’t you just love to travel to Europe someday?” Dolores said, wistfully. “Pepe was so romantic.”

Bucky leaned close to her. “Forget about him, I’ll show you romantic, dollface.”

“Oh Bucky,” she said, giggling as she moved closer towards him.

Steve watched as Bucky leaned against the wall, one foot crossed over the other and balanced on the toe. He grinned and curled his finger around one of Dolores’s curls, tugging affectionately.

“Come on, slowpokes!” Dolores called to them, bouncing in place, smiling widely. “Susan and I have to be home in one hour or our ma’s will have words with us!”   

Steve unlocked the door and moved quickly away as Bucky and Dolores tumbled inside, giggling madly as Bucky curled his arm around her waist, whisking her off into Steve’s bedroom. The door closed firmly but it didn’t do anything to muffle Dolores’s laughter which turned into a low moan.

He waited politely for Susan to walk inside first and followed her in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Susan smiled and shook her head. “No thanks, I’m not thirsty right now.”

He shrugged out of his jacket, one of Bucky’s hand-me-downs, as Susan looked around the small living room, walking to the wall where Steve had pinned up a few sketches – the Brooklyn skyline from the roof, a profile of Bucky, one of his ma before she passed.

“Did you draw these?”

“Yeah.”

Susan grinned, looking at him differently now, something like new interest in her gaze as she looked him over. “Bucky never said that you were an artist.”

“Are you interested in art?”

“A little bit,” she said, shrugging. “I mean, I’m not an expert on anything. The girls from the school went on a visit to the Brooklyn Museum a couple of months ago. I must’ve stared at the Renoirs for like hours, they were so gorgeous. I don’t know how an artist comes up with such beautiful paintings.”

Steve chuckled. “I think it probably takes a lot of hard work, practice, and maybe a little luck and a little blessing from Heaven.”

“You’re really good, Steve.”

“Thanks, I—“

Dolores’s moan was loud and urgent, they could hear her chanting Bucky’s name and calling for God through the thin wall, and Steve felt his ears heat up as Susan glanced at him.

“I can turn on the radio…maybe we can dance?”

Susan set her purse on the table and sat down on the couch. She smiled, patting the cushion beside her. “Why don’t you come and sit with me instead.”

“Sure,” he said, sitting next to her, close but not too close.

_“You can’t get too close or she’ll think you’re being fresh; but you can’t be too far away either or she’ll think you’re not interested,” Bucky once told him._

_“Well, what’s the right amount then?”_

_Bucky shrugged, giving Steve a teasing grin. “Depends on the dame.”_

_Steve made a face at him. “You’re right unhelpful, you know that, jerk?”_

“Is that more of your art?” She said, pointing to the folder that Steve put together using a piece of cardboard folded in half, cheap butcher paper, and string holding it together. “Can I look at them?”

“Go ahead,” Steve murmured, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

Susan scooted a little closer to him when she sat back, effectively closing the distance between them herself; and he thought it was quite fine that she was making all the moves, less room for him to make mistakes or misunderstand her intentions.

Steve watched as she carefully opened the cardboard cover, making pleased hums as she took her time looking at each one of his sketches. Bucky laughing, of the alley outside his window, the Empire State Building, Bucky sleeping on the couch, Mr. Garrison at the butcher shop, Mrs. O’Reilly at the hot dog automat that he and Bucky took their dates, various neighbors out and about during their day, Bucky sitting on the window sill with both of his feet out on the balcony with his forehead pressed against the glass and his eyes closed, Bucky with a cigarette clenched between his teeth, Bucky grinning boyishly as he gazed at Steve. He didn’t think they were particularly good, but he was pleased that Susan was enjoying them.

“You draw a lot of pictures of Bucky,” she commented, grinning at him.

“He’s the only one who’ll sit for me,” he said, honestly.

Susan bit her bottom lip as she slid her eyes towards him. “Oh? Are you looking for a new model?”

Steve wanted to laugh and tell her no, he wasn’t any kind of real artist, but he bit his tongue to keep from blurting out something so completely stupid when it dawned on him that Susan was giving him an opening.

“Yeah…yeah, I get kind of sick of looking at Bucky’s ugly mug all the time. Maybe it’s time for me to look at someone else for a change; someone real pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty enough to be an artist’s muse, Steve?”

He nodded slowly, swallowing down his nerves. “Yeah, you’re real pretty Susan.”

“I’ve always wanted to know artists; I love being around creative people,” she said, boldly. “But ma would never allow me to go to the artists concaves. She doesn’t approve of their ungodly, bohemian lifestyle, if you get my meaning.”

Steve licked his lips as she stared at him. “Well, I’m not bohemian, but this is a nice respectable place.”

“Have you ever drawn nudes? All the great artists draw nudes.”

“I think the human body is beautiful in all their shapes and forms,” he said, his mouth dry.

Steve ignored the rhythmic thumping of the metal bedframe against the wall; Dolores’s muffled cries and Bucky’s throaty grunts coming from the bedroom. Susan met his eyes, her cheeks flushed pink.

“What’s your favorite part of the body?”

He carefully considered how to answer that question – it wouldn’t be polite to talk about a dame’s privates, no matter how bold the girl – so he selected something that he once overheard while walking past the Everard Turkish Baths on West 28th Street – or the “Everhard” as Bucky slyly called it, referencing that it was a bath house for male homosexuals who wanted a classy and safe place to socialize.

_“Socialize. Get it?” Bucky said, nudging Steve’s side with a juvenile giggle._

_Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, I get it, I get it, for Chrissakes, Buck, it ain’t like I was born yesterday. I know artists and some of them are queer or like to wear a dress, it ain’t a big deal.”_

_Bucky gave him an appraising look. “Huh, thought I was going to get your goat that time.”_

_“Oh yeah? Over joking about the queer bath house in New York City that everybody knows about,” he drawled, sarcastically._

“A shapely leg is always interesting to draw,” he murmured, setting the folder of his sketches on the table. “Nice long curves, the way it narrows to the ankle, the little bend behind the knee…all the way up to the hip.”

“Do you think mine is nice?” 

He watched as Susan slipped her hand down the length of her dress, sliding the hem up her thigh to reveal the softness of her pale thigh, the white garters holding up her stocking.

“It’s very nice.”

Steve leaned closer to her and kissed her, pressing his lips gently against her mouth, just like Bucky taught him when they were fourteen.

_“Girls don’t like it when you’re too rough; at least not a first,” Bucky said, wisely. “Don’t smear their lipstick, it makes a mess and they’ll get mad at you. You just gotta lean in a little and put your lips against hers and press in a little, show her you’re interested. If she presses back, then you’re in. You can nibble on her lips a little, but don’t bite down. She might be a tasty treat but you ain’t a dog.”_

He felt her lips press against his, parting a little with a soft sigh.

“Can I…?” Steve asked, setting his hand on her lower leg, ready to pull it away if she said no.

Susan bit her lip and blushed. “I’m saving myself for marriage…but we can do other things.”

He slipped his hand up her leg, barely touching her, until his thumb stroked the bone of her knee, fingers curling under to feel the heat of her skin through the stockings.

“You have really nice hands, Steve,” she whispered, curling one arm behind his neck and holding onto him as he ran his fingers up her stockings to her inner thigh. Her skin was soft and warm, quivering a little as he nudged them a little higher up until he was touching the leg band of her underpants.

“You want me to just…over them?”

Susan nodded, closing her eyes and hiding her face against the side of his neck. Steve breathed slowly, his heart beating wildly in his chest, and touched her gently over the thin cotton. She moved her leg apart, giving him room, and he was surprised by the heat of her, the thick scent of her, through the cotton, moving the tips of his fingers in gentle circles.

_Bucky had brought home a certain kind of magazine, gotten it off one of the boys from the nightclub. It was one of those nudie magazines, photos of naked women with their legs spread, the images lurid and embarrassing._

_“I can’t look at this,” he protested, pushing the magazine away._

_“Come on, I just gotta teach you this one thing and then you’re golden,” Bucky said, opening it to the one of the woman with her legs parted._

_Steve looked again, trying to approach it with his artist’s eye. The woman in the black and white photograph was dark haired and pale skinned, she was pretty enough but her face was tilted away, eyes closed and mouth open. She had a large triangle of dark, bushy fur between her legs, thighs parted wide to show everything of herself. It made him nervous to look at the photograph, but he was drawn to it, curious and speculative of what it would be like to see a woman do that for her._

_“Some girls like it when you touch them here,” Bucky said, putting his finger on the picture, making a little circle. “That’s their little beauty spot. Her little coosie. Some girls are too sensitive so you gotta work up to it or around it; some girls go nuts if you touch it. You know you done the job right when they trap your head with their thighs and won’t let go. You can suck on it, but don’t bite her hard—“_

_He made a face at him. “Why’re you always talking about biting? I’m not going to bite a dame, Buck.”_

_Bucky chuckled, his face reddening. “I might have thought biting was a good thing at one point. Learned my lesson quick when she socked me in the eye with her knee, gave me a damn good black eye!”_

_“I remember that; you said that you got into a bar brawl.”_

_“Well it wasn’t like I was going to tell you that I bit a girl between her legs and she socked me!” Bucky said, laughing loudly. He handed the magazine to Steve. “Here, you keep it, think of it as part of your new education as a bad boy. It’s good to look at when you diddle your dong at night, give you some inspiration.”_

Susan let out a soft sigh of pleasure when Steve’s fingers found her beauty spot, a soft nub between the lips, just where the area of hair narrowed. She was warm and damp, mewling softly, her hips shifting on the cushions, pushing up against his light touch.

“Is it good?” Steve murmured, turning his head to look at her face.

She nodded. “You can go faster, up and down.”

He moved his fingers up and down over the nub, experimentally pressing harder and then going lighter, listening to her panting breath, the flush on her cheeks, and the way her arm tightened around his neck.

“Oh…oh, oh, oh…”

Steve licked his lips and kept stroking her, feeling her starting to shake, until she gave a wordless little cry, clinging against him.

Susan sighed and pushed his hand away, falling back against the couch with a long, pleased sigh.

“Now that’s a good finish,” Bucky drawled, leaning against the bedroom doorway.

“Bucky!” Susan protested, pulling down her dress and pushing Steve to the other side of the couch. “Really!”

Bucky smirked at Steve and then turned to look into the bedroom. “Yeah, they’re finished, doll, you can come out now.”

Dolores was half-way dressed and she giggled seeing them, cheeks flushed and eyes bright as she turned her back to Bucky. “Button me back up, will you?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, working deftly on the long row of small buttons on the back of her dress.

Dolores smoothed down her hair. “Don’t mess up the buttons or my ma will know I’ve been up to no good with the likes of you.”

Bucky chuckled gently. “You don’t have to worry none, doll, I know what I’m doing.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, teasingly.

Steve licked his lips and wiped his hand over his face when he caught Susan’s scent on his fingers. She smelled strong and musky, and for as long as Steve lived, he’d always remember Susan’s smell for the rest of his life.

“If you girls need to freshen up, you can use the sink in the kitchen but the communal washroom is right by the door,” Steve offered, trying to be a gentleman.

Dolores grabbed Susan’s hand and he watched as the two girls scurried out the door, giggling between them.

“Do you think they’re laughing about me?”

“Did you show Susan a good time?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, feeling shy about revealing so much to Bucky.

“Then don’t sweat it, Stevie, they’re probably giving you good marks.”

Steve made a face. “Seems kind of rude for them to talk about us.”

Bucky laughed, walking towards Steve and leaned down on the back of the couch. He grabbed Steve’s hand and smelled his fingers.

“Hey!”

“It’s only fair,” Bucky said, raising his eyebrows. “She get you going, Stevie?”

Steve blushed, pulling out his shirt to hide the front of his pants so that Bucky wouldn’t see that he his dong was still showing a lot of interest. “That’s none of your business.”

Bucky laughed, but didn’t push the issue. He patted Steve on the back and gave him a half amused, half proud look.

“Maybe I was wrong, that angel face of yours might be just the ticket to showing dames a piece of heaven.”

Steve stared at him and then made a face and rolled his eyes at how absurd that was. “For Chrissakes, Buck, the things you say.”

“Come on, Romeo, let’s get cleaned up so that we can walk the girls home.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Steve/Bucky (finally some action). “Sex Hygiene and Venereal Disease” was a real pamphlet given to new Army recruits in the late 30s/early 40s: https://www.med-dept.com/articles/venereal-disease-and-treatment-during-ww2/

Natasha: Anybody special, though?

Steve: Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience.

 

  *          Captain America: The Winter Soldier



**November, 1938**

Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about making time with all the girls that Bucky set him up with. They were all nice girls, friends of Dolores, with Susan putting in a good word for him and all. So Steve was getting a lot of practice in pleasing them with his fingers and his mouth.

_“Now I should warn you that some girls with experience, you best watch out for certain signs,” Bucky advised him, sagely. “She could be a real bag of trouble.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Venereal diseases, Rogers. The deadly sisters: Miss Syphilis and Lady Gonorrhea,” Bucky said, making a face. “You’ll tell me if you need some prophylactics.”_

_Steve rolled his eyes. “I can get my own damn prophylactics.”_

_Bucky laughed, tossing him a small booklet. “Got this from one of my Army pals. You should read up on it.”_

_Steve turned it around and looked at the cover. “Sex Hygiene and Venereal Disease.” He looked at the print date, 20 Oct 39, U.S. Government Printing Office. “Manhood comes from healthy sex organs. It is not necessary to have sexual intercourse in order to keep strong and well. You have a fine healthy body now. Keep it that way.” He looked at Bucky. “Are you kidding me?”_

_“Keep reading; educate yourself, Rogers.”_

_“Venereal diseases come from sex relations or intimate contact with a diseased person. They are very serious. Gonorrhea and syphilis are two of the worst. Most prostitutes have venereal disease.” Steve groaned and shook his head. “I’m not making time with prostitutes.”_

_“Keep reading.”_

_“Guard against venereal disease by staying away from ‘easy’ women. Don’t gamble your health away. If you do not have self-control, then do not fail to take safety measures.”_

_“Remember: Put it on before you put it in.” Bucky chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. “A healthy body and a healthy mind lead to happiness.”_

_Steve threw the booklet at Bucky’s head. “Up yours, you jerk!”_

Despite Bucky’s fear tactics, Steve was careful with the girls that he made time with. He’d put his mouth only on a few girls and learned their tastes and what parts to lick and which girls liked sucking and the rare girl who even liked a little – if Bucky was to be believed – biting. They were all nice girls, but none of them really wanted to date Steve. He knew they only gave him the time of day because he kept his mouth shut and didn’t brag about what he did – not that there was anyone that Steve bragged to, not even to Bucky.

“Mama and Becca asked if you were going to come over for Thanksgiving with us this year, break bread and all. I got to tell them soon so that they’ll set a place for you,” Bucky said, pulling up his work pants and sighing contentedly from the cool breeze.

“Yeah, thanks Buck, I’ll make my ma’s apple pie recipe if that’s all right?”

“Sure,” he said, taking a deep breath. “So Becca was talking about you the other day.”

“Yeah? Why for?”

“Something about how it was unfair that you had the prettiest blue eyes,” Bucky said, chuckling. “I think she’s got a crush on you.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m like a brother to her.”

Bucky shrugged. “You’re harmless and she’s a teenage girl, she’s starting to notice stuff. Don’t get weird if she starts in on you, she’s just practicing her flirting so don’t take it personal or—or _serious_  or anything like that.”

He noticed that there was a bit of a warning tone in Bucky’s voice, even though the words were teasing.

Steve glared at him. “Chrissakes, Barnes, don’t be stupid. I’d never think that of Rebecca.”

“All right, shesh, don’t be so touchy,” Bucky said, laughing at the pinched look on Steve’s face. “Just saying, because you got a reputation now and all.”

“Reputation?” He said, chewing on his lower lip. “Is…is it bad?”

“Ever heard the saying that the better part of valor is discretion?”

Steve leisurely sucked in the smoke from his cigarette and cocked his head at Bucky. “You quoting Shakespeare at me?”

“All I’m saying is that the dames like you—“

“For only one thing, yeah,” he muttered, shrugging. “But not enough to actually go on a date with me.”

It was a bit of a sore point with Steve; not that he was complaining. Being with the girls was nice, but it wasn’t the only thing Steve wanted. He wasn’t sure how to tell any of the girls that he’d like to get to know them; he wasn’t sure if any of them cared to know him.

Bucky leaned against the window sill opposite Steve and sighed. “Listen, pal, you wanted to be a bit of the bad boy. Well, that’s just part and parcel of being a bad boy. Once a good girl gets wind of your reputation, well, she’s not going to be all that interested in trying to get you to walk her down the aisle.”

“Why not?” Steve said, frowning. “It ain’t hurt you none. Pretty much all the mothers in the neighborhood wouldn’t mind seeing their daughters settled with you despite _your_  reputation.”

“Because I’m a damn good catch that’s why,” Bucky said, smug. “And I don’t talk.”

Except to Steve, but neither of them would dare spread the talk to the boys that they knew. The guys all gave Bucky a lot of joshing around, but they considered Bucky to be a stand up kind of guy who didn’t kiss and tell.

“I don’t talk about any of them either.”

Bucky took the cigarette from Steve and drew in a long inhale, laughing hoarsely as he handed it back. “They all probably talk about you. Me, too, I suspect. First time I found out that birds talk about sex the same, if not more, than us men, I thought I was going to eat my shoe. But why not? The girls can gab all they want, it’s what they do. But if we boys talk out of line, well, that’s disrespecting a dame. Can’t think of anything worse than a man letting the cat out of the bag to ruin a girl’s reputation.”

Steve blanched and shook his head. “I’m never going to understand dames.”

“Join the club. They’re all contradictory beauties,” he said, fondly, leaning his head back against the sill and looking out the window to the night sky. “So you going to tell me what you do with your girls?”

“No,” he said, firmly, looking away. “It ain’t right, Buck.”

“Come on, who am I going to tell? I know how to keep my trap shut, you know,” he said, teasingly. “Come on, Stevie, how far have you gotten? How many times did you get your Johnson wet, huh? Come on, tell me, Steve!”

Steve felt his ears heat up. “Buck, I don’t want to say.”

“Why not? It’s just us; we’re best pals, right? I’m not going to make fun of you or nothing. We’re not even going to compare numbers.”

He turned a little to look at Bucky to see if he was teasing Steve, but Bucky was just wearing a small smile on his face, eyes wide with playful curiosity.

“It’s not like that,” Steve said, shrugging helplessly.

“Then how is it?”

Steve flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette and sighed. “I do all the work and then we’re done.”

Bucky sat up, his eyes widening. “Are you telling me that you get the girls going but none of them do you back?”

“I didn’t think I should be asking for anything for myself—“

“Are you fucking pulling my leg, Rogers? How many girls have you made time with and…for Chrissakes, Stevie, why are you such a fucking martyr?”

“Hey! Don’t swear at me like that; and I’m not a fucking martyr. I’m just being a gentleman.”

Bucky stared at him in disbelief and then let out an incredulous chuckle. “Damn, Rogers, you really must be a fucking saint or something—“

“Buck!” Steve yelled at him, his face getting red from being both embarrassed and a little angry at Bucky’s cussing.

“—all right, all right, sorry, shesh,” he said, holding up his hands and smiling. “Saint Steven.”

“You ain’t funny, jerk.”

Bucky grinned, sheepishly. “I’m a little funny.”

“Anyway…maybe I’m just going to wait for the right girl, you know? Someone who’ll actually want to date me and let me touch them because they like me, not because I’m just making time with them,” he said, softly.

They sat on the window sill in companionable silence for a long time, nothing but the sounds of the neighborhood at night, cars going by, voices coming up from the street below, music from the radio from one of the other apartments. He didn’t know what Bucky was thinking, maybe judging Steve for being so lame. But Steve really believed that there was a dame out there for him, someone who wouldn’t mind the look of him, all skinny and sick with a hundred different ailments, and would see past the shell to the good man he was trying to be.

He watched as Bucky stood up, smirking down at him. “Get up, Stevie.”

“Why for?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just do as I say for once in your life, huh? Get up and go sit on the couch.”

Steve tossed the butt of his cigarette off the metal stairs and pulled his legs in from off the balcony. He walked the few steps to his couch, sitting down and looking up at Bucky.

“Now what?”

“It’s a crying shame that you haven’t gotten your dick wet, Stevie,” Bucky said, walking towards him until he was standing in front of Steve and looking down at him. He nudged at Steve’s legs. “Get your knocky knees apart.”

“What’re you…” Steve trailed off, eyes widening as Bucky dropped to his knees between Steve’s legs, large hands covering Steve’s knees. “Bucky, you don’t—“

“Shush,” he said, slipping the black suspenders off Steve’s narrow shoulders, knowing hands going for the buttons in front of Steve’s pants, undoing them quickly.

Steve bit his bottom lip, unable to move as Bucky pulled down his pants and his undershorts, baring him to Bucky’s eyes. He wanted to cover himself with his hands; curled them into fists by his legs so that he wouldn’t do it. This wasn’t the first time Bucky saw him bare; when Steve was too sick and weak and Bucky had to get him to the bath or clean him up, changing in front of each other more for expediency than privacy. Plenty of doctors had seen Steve naked. But this was the first time someone was looking at him for more than just a check-up.

“Awww…don’t get all shy on me now, Rogers.”

“Shut up, Buck,” he hissed at him, face heating up.

Bucky met Steve’s eyes and then deliberately dropped his gaze to look at Steve’s dick, which was starting to firm up, and he gave a playful wolf whistle and winked up at Steve. “Who’d have known it to look at you, skinny guy like you. That’ll be more than a mouthful, huh?”

Steve’s face felt like fire. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Ain’t making fun of you,” Bucky murmured, one corner of his lips turned up, blue eyes sharp with something Steve wasn’t sure what it meant. Steve felt pinned by Bucky’s frank and appreciative gaze. No one had ever looked at Steve like that. He watched as Bucky licked the palm of his right hand and then reached down to curl around Steve’s dick.

Steve let out a soft gasp, his hands gripping Bucky’s arms. He arched into the long, slow stroke of Bucky’s hand, warm and tight and not nearly wet enough, feeling his dick pulse in Bucky’s grip.

“Who knew that a handy feels better than doing it yourself, right?”

“Buck,” Steve whined, head flung back against the couch, gasping for breath, as the feel of Bucky’s hand wrung pleasure through his body with each careful stroke.

Steve’s whole body jerked against the couch when he felt Bucky’s hot, wet mouth cover the head of his dick, hand stroking up as Bucky pulled and sucked, clever tongue licking under the foreskin and around the sensitive head, sending shivers down Steve’s skin. The kind of pleasure that made his legs tremble and his heart beat so fast that Steve felt like it was going to break his chest. His hips moved, arching under Bucky’s hold, trying to push more of his dick inside Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky pulled off and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t push your dick into my mouth like that, Stevie, that ain’t done.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve mumbled, his voice sounding thick to his ears. “Keep going.”

“Say please. Be polite.”

Steve whimpered, partly in shame and partly so overcome with the need for Bucky to keep going, he was willing to say anything. “Please.”

He groaned when Bucky lowered his mouth to the head; the sound was too loud and seemed to echo through his apartment, and he covered his mouth with the heel of his hand, trying to keep the sound inside. Steve looked down to see Bucky’s dark hair bobbing up and down, spit running down his dick and over Bucky’s hand, red lips moving up and down, the sound of slick and sucking filling Steve’s ears.

“Bucky…Bucky,” he whispered, his other hand reaching down to gently rub Bucky’s head. Sometimes, when Steve had his mouth on a girl, she’d tug hard on Steve’s hair but he didn’t like the roughness of it. Bucky’s hair was damp with late evening sweat, but his hair was soft and Steve hoped that Bucky understood the affectionate touch for what it was.

Bucky opened his eyes and looked up at Steve. They held the look as Steve muffled his moans as Bucky sucked him harder, eyes crinkling at the edges as Bucky gave him a little smirk.

It was so dirty but so good; he had nothing to compare it to than stroking himself off with his hand full of the ladies face cream that Bucky once gave him with a knowing wink.  

“Bucky…oh Buck…I’m gonna spill…” he gasped out, roughly.

Steve felt the rush of pleasure building, working through his body, and breaking something in his brain as his back arched and he creamed inside Bucky’s mouth. He pressed both hands over his mouth to stifle the surprised cry, turning into a low whimper in the back of his throat. He panted, breathless with it, a small twinge of pain building in his chest, chasing on the tail end of pleasure. He pushed Bucky off and collapsed against the couch, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to work air through his mouth and into his sore lungs.

“Come on, Stevie, lay back down,” Bucky murmured, turning Steve on his back on the couch, warm hands rubbing up and down his chest, massaging his neck and shoulders, palms pressing on his diaphragm to help him push air out of his lungs. “Breathe, Stevie, breathe. In and out. In and out. You’re going to be okay.”

Steve swallowed and then tried to force himself to breathe in and out, slow, like Bucky wanted. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Bucky watching him, his face red and flushed, but expression anxious as he helped Steve work on his breathing.

“Want me to get you one of your cigarettes?”

Steve shook his head, catching his breath better now. “No, it’s…I don’t think those things really help all that much.”

Bucky grinned, patting Steve’s chest with one hand. “You catch your breath and I’ll fetch you some water.” He stood up and looked at Steve, eyes moving from his face and lower. “Better pull your pants up before you catch a cold.”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked down at himself, grabbing for his shorts and pants, pulling them up. He sank back against the couch cushions, one hand curled over his forehead, as he blinked up at the ceiling, his body still trembling from the pleasure that Bucky pulled out of him.

Bucky came back with a cup of water, putting it on the coffee table. He sat down at the other end of the couch, pushing Steve’s feet behind him. He sighed, sprawling down on his back.

“All men should know what it’s like to get his dick wet,” Bucky told him, giving him a smug grin.

Steve met Bucky’s far-too-pleased look and he kicked him lightly. “Jerk. I can’t believe you did that.”

Bucky laughed, catching Steve’s foot and holding it still. “Next time, you ask a doll to wet your Johnson, and then you’ll have to tell me if I was better.”

They looked at each other and broke into loud giggles. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s December 1941 address to Congress is quoted nearly in its entirety in this story.

Bucky: This isn’t some back alley, Steve. It’s a war. Why are you so keen to fight? There’re lots of other important jobs—

Steve: You want me to sit in a factory? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon while the men are laying down their lives? I can do as well as them and I got no right to do any less. That’s the thing you don’t get, Bucky. It’s not about me.

Bucky: Right. ‘Cause you got nothing to prove.

 

  * Captain America: The First Avenger



 

**December, 1941**

 

Steve was staring at his canvas with a critical eye, frowning slightly at the way that the light source in his painting didn’t look realistic enough to him. It was a portion of the Brooklyn Bridge and the sunlight hitting the frame wasn’t right and Steve hadn’t figured out how to fix it. He huffed out a frustrated sigh and leaned back on his stool to glance at Bucky’s canvas. He was grinning to himself, slopping blues and greens and whites all over his canvas, no rhyme or reason that Steve could see, except that the colors were blending beautifully together, appearing aggressive and careless.

“I’m gonna call it ‘ _Youth of Brooklyn_ ,’” Bucky said, from the side of his mouth. He tilted his head and gave Steve a sidelong glance, a smirk forming on his lips.

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the Met is going to hold a showing of your paint work.”

“Don’t be jealous, Rogers,” he said, chuckling softly. “I’m gonna define a whole new era of painting. They’re gonna call it the Barnes Era of Paint Mess.”

“I’m sure—“

“The President is making an address to Congress!” One of the students shouted, popping his head into their classroom. “There’s a radio in the teacher’s room!”

Steve and Bucky shared a glance and ran out of the classroom, following the others down the hallway to the small teacher’s room.

“Turn it up, we can’t hear!”

“Shhhhh! It’s starting!”

“Quiet!”

_“—a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by the naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.”_

Steve clutched Bucky’s arm. “Is it war? Are we going to war?”

_“—after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.”_

“Why did they attack us if we were in peaceful negotiations?”

“Ohmygod, all those poor people.”

“Are we going to war? Ohmygod, are we going to war?”

“Shhhhh! Please!”

“Everybody shut up!”

_“—during the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.”_

“It’s going to be war.”

“No, it can’t be.”

Steve felt Bucky’s arm trembling under his hand. There was the sound of soft crying from the other students standing around them.

_“—last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island. Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.”_

“Here it comes!”

_“As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.”_

“Absolute victory?” Steve said, loudly. “What will it take for absolute victory?”

_“I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us. Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph – so help us God.”_

“We’re going to war!”

“It’s war!”

“War against Japan!”

Steve and Bucky moved away as the crowd of people ran through the hallway, students coming out of classrooms, shouts of war filling the air.

“Bucky—“

“I’m going to enlist,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth. “I’m going to join up, Stevie.”

Steve swallowed down his fear and nodded. “I’ll join, too. I’ll enlist and we can serve together.”

Bucky turned to look at him, frowning. “No, Steve, you can’t—you don’t have—“

“I have just as much right to serve my country as anybody else,” he said, angrily. “Don’t think that you’ll ditch me, Buck, we’ll go down to the enlistment office together, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, wrapping his arm around Steve’s neck and pulling him in for a quick hug. “We’ll do it together.”

***

Steve stared at the 4F rejection on his enlistment card. He sat outside the US Recruiting and Induction Center, staring at the long line of men, young and old, from different walks of life, waiting for their chance to serve in the military. There was an air of solemnity, buoyed with an excitement and pride. The faces on the men looked determined, that they were doing the right thing, joined together as future brothers in arms.

Bucky came out, smoothing back his hair, his face pale. “Hey, Stevie.”

“Look at this,” he said, waving the rejection form. “I got a 4F, physically, mentally or morally unfit for service.”

Bucky took the form from him and exhaled deeply. “It’s for the best, Stevie.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and stared up at him. “They took you, didn’t they?”

When Bucky didn’t say anything, Steve snatched the enlistment card from Bucky’s hand and stared at the 1A stamp.

“I ship out to Basic in two weeks. Camp LeHigh,” he said, reaching into Steve’s jacket pocket to pull out a pack of his asthma cigarettes, lighting one up quickly. “What the hell am I gonna tell ma? I’m gonna make my ma cry, Stevie.”

Steve gritted his teeth and swallowed down his anger. “You know your ma is going to proud of you, Buck.” He ripped up his rejection card and tossed it into a nearby garbage container. “What am I gonna tell people when they ask me why I’m not serving, Buck? I’m gonna be the only man in New York who ain’t gonna be in the military.”

“Hey, you didn’t get rejected because you’re not mentally or morally unfit,” Bucky said, reaching out to put his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “You got ailments, everybody in Brooklyn knows that. They know that if you could, you’d serve. No one’s gonna dispute that truth.”

Steve pulled out of Bucky’s grip and shook his head, bitterly. “Yeah.”

“Look, I got only two weeks as a civilian before I ship out. Come over to our house; ma will probably make a ton of food, try to feed me up before I leave.”

He didn’t want to go; couldn’t bear to see Mrs. Barnes weep and hug Bucky, his sisters crying but proud of their big brother. And what would they think if they looked at Steve, wondering why he didn’t enlist, why he couldn’t serve.

“Thanks, Buck, but I think you’ll want to spend time with your family.”

“Hey,” he said, sharply. “You’re my family, too, Steve. You better be at the Barnes house for supper or I’m never gonna forgive you. You think I’m gonna be able to sit at my ma’s table and eat my food without you there with me?”

Steve ran his hand over his hair, looking away. “All right, Buck, I’ll be there.”

***

The news of James Buchanan Barnes joining up spread like wildfire through their neighborhood.

The neighborhood women stopped by the Barnes’s apartment, dropping off special treats for Bucky and to congratulate Mrs. Barnes for having a strong, brave son to send to war. Whenever they walked down the sidewalk, men shook Bucky’s hand and patted his back, telling him to ‘ _get out there and give ‘em what for_ ,’ a true American boy going to fight in the war. The neighborhood dames practically swooned when they saw Bucky, prettily begging him to go dancing at all the dance halls before he shipped out to Basic. A few of the bolder girls promised to wait for him, sneaking him little bits of their lace handkerchiefs with their initials embroidered on them. No one but Steve knew that Bucky kept a box full of little bits of lace under his bed.

_“Ain’t it a bit creepy to just keep all of them? Like little trophies?” Steve once asked, looking through the box at the dozens and dozens of prettily embroidered lace handkerchiefs._

_“Can’t even recall any of the dames that gave them to me.” Bucky shrugged. “But I can’t throw none of them out, wouldn’t be respectful.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because they made them for me. How am I supposed to just toss them out?”_

Steve was jealous, not for the attention that Bucky received, because that was the norm whenever he was out with Bucky, but because Bucky was strong enough physically to serve their country. Bucky walked with a newfound pride, his Brooklyn swagger was still there, but it was like everyone saw him as a grown up now, a real man.

“You gotta come out dancing, Stevie,” Bucky said, smoothing back his hair at the kitchen sink. “It ain’t gonna be any fun if I’m out there by myself.”

Steve snorted, rolling his eyes. “Not like you’re going to be alone for long, Buck. I hear all the girls in the neighborhood will be lining up for a last dance with you.”

Bucky made a face and looked at him. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t be sore at me,” he said, softly. “I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry that I’m signed up and you’re not. I’m sorry, okay? If there was a way, I know you’d be there, too. I know, Stevie, I have no doubt about that.”

“I ain’t sore at you,” Steve admitted, mulishly. “I’m just sore at…the situation.”

He motioned to his sickly body and rolled his eyes.

“Come on, let’s get going. Don’t be mad at me if I ditch out early.”

Bucky grinned rakishly at him, wiggling his eyebrows. “Gonna get lucky?”

“With you going off to war? Doubt it.”

Bucky laughed, throwing back his head as he opened the door. “Stevie, you are about to be the luckiest man in all of Brooklyn.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, when I’m gone, you’re gonna have to take up the slack.”

Steve groaned and rolled his eyes, kicking Bucky playfully on the ass. “Jerk.”

***

Night after night, Steve followed Bucky to the dance halls, watching as he took nearly every pretty dame in the building out for a twirl on the dance floor. It seemed that Bucky was some kind of royalty the way that men shook his hand and the dames smiled up at him with hopeful and lustful looks in their eyes. It was no secret that Bucky took his pleasures where he could find them, and he was going to set some kind of record with all the dames that went him.

“Oh, Bucky, you’re going to look so debonair in your uniform,” one of the dame’s cooed at him, clutching his arm and pressing her chest against him. “Will you come back to Brooklyn wearing your uniform?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” he drawled, grinning. “It depends on where Uncle Sam sends me after Basic.”

“I do love a man in uniform,” another dame said, batting her eyes at Bucky.

“Who are we going to dance with while you’re away?” Someone else said, pouting prettily. “All the good ones join the war and we’re stuck with all the weaklings who couldn’t pass their physicals!”

The group of people around Bucky laughed merrily; Steve saw Bucky meet his gaze, frowning slightly.

“Hey, now, not all the men who got a 4F are bad,” Bucky protested.

“My pa said that any man with a 4F is either morally bankrupt or has mental problems,” one of the dame’s proclaimed, all of them giggling again.

“Bucky, don’t abandon us to all the disgusting 4F-ers!”

The girls all cackled madly, whispering to each other and pointing out the men in the dance hall who were likely 4F rejects. Like Steve.

Steve felt his face flush and he ducked away from the people surrounding Bucky, for once glad that he was invisible to them.

“Steve—“

He wasn’t going to begrudge his friend a chance to get the accolades he deserved. No one knew just how brave Bucky could be, what he was sacrificing by joining up.

Night after night, it was the same thing, just different dames. And every night that passed, was just one more day that Bucky was closer to war.

***

It was Bucky’s last night in town and he was holding court at his usual spot, his hair falling into his eyes, shirt sleeves rolled up, laughing as another dame took his hand and pulled him out on the dance floor.

He and Steve had already said their goodbyes, Steve wishing Bucky nothing but good luck and a safe return home, and Bucky asking Steve to look after his ma and his sisters while he was gone. Steve promised that he’d stand in Bucky’s shoes for his family until he got back.

_“If I don’t come back…if I never make it back, you have to promise me that you’ll be my ma’s son, okay?”_

_“Don’t talk like that—“_

_“I’m just being realistic, punk. I need to know that when I leave, that you’ll be there to look out for them. Give me that peace of mind, Stevie.”_

_Steve nodded, patting Bucky’s back, both of them manfully ignoring the fact that Bucky had started crying. “I promise I’ll look out for them, Bucky, I swear.”_

He finished the last of his soda and stood up, making his way out of the dance hall and into the cold New York winter. It seemed hard for Bucky to enlist during the winter, knowing that he would be serving during the coldest months of battle.  

***

The apartment was quiet when he walked in, tossing his key on the counter. He opened the small stove in the living room and tossed in the last of his kindling, lighting a match and throwing it inside. He fed it a few pieces of driftwood he found at the pier, and sat close by as the fire slowly built up and warmed him.

He stood and walked into his bedroom, pulling his pillow and blankets off the bed. It would be too cold to sleep in there and he wanted to be close to the fire stove’s warmth. He’d miss Bucky’s warmth during the cold months; he’d miss the way Bucky would rub liniment onto his back and chest to help him with his breathing. He snuggled under his covers on the couch, listening to the tick tock of the clock and the sounds of the neighborhood outside. He said a prayer to keep Bucky safe.

Steve didn’t know when he finally fell asleep, but he woke to Bucky holding up the blanket and crawling in over him on the couch.

“Bucky?”

“I just…I wanted to see you,” he whispered, pressing his lips against Steve’s temple. He was trembling like he had the fever, tucking in closer against Steve. “Wanted to see you one last time, Stevie.”

Steve turned on his side, making room for Bucky on the couch, both of them barely fitting together as it was. Bucky ran his hand over Steve’s head, slipping under to curl behind the back of his neck. He felt Bucky’s warm breath, smelling of liquor and cigarettes and something sour, kissing his cheek, then his ear, then his neck.

“Stevie, oh Stevie,” Bucky murmured, kissing his mouth. “I’m gonna miss you, Stevie.”

“I know, Buck, it’s all right,” Steve said, holding Bucky close. “You’re gonna be okay, I swear.”

“Stevie…I need you, need you, my best guy,” Bucky whispered, slipping his hand between them to undo the front of Steve’s pants.

He reached down and helped Bucky, undoing Bucky’s fronts, moving his legs between Bucky’s until they were wedged in tight together. Bucky was already hard under his shorts and Steve pulled him free, stroking him dry, the skin catching against his palm.

Bucky’s hand was damp as he curled it around Steve’s cock, pulling it out, and he pulled his hand from underneath the blankets to spit it in, then curled it around both of their cocks, stroking his spit along their length.

Steve groaned, arching into Bucky’s touch as Bucky leaned down to kiss his mouth, tongue slipping between his lips. Steve startled, at first, eyes opening and he moaned against Bucky’s tongue, letting it slide deeper into his mouth.

“Suck on my tongue,” Bucky whispered, kissing him again, and Steve did, pulling on his tongue with his mouth until Bucky let out a trembling whimper.

Bucky moaned, shifting his hips urgently against Steve, hand moving up and down quickly, tightening just under the head. He rubbed his wet palm over the head, then gripped them tight again, and Steve shivered, trying to thrust into Bucky’s mad pace, trying to keep up with him, sliding his cock against Bucky’s.

“Come on, baby, spill,” Bucky urged, nibbling Steve’s earlobe with his teeth. “Want you to, Stevie, make you remember me.”

“I will, I swear Bucky, I’ll remember,” Steve promised, closing his eyes and letting the pleasure move through him into Bucky’s rough strokes. “Buck…Bucky, Bucky…”

Steve groaned, hands gripping Bucky’s shoulders, as he shuddered in warm pleasure, Bucky pressing his mouth against Steve’s shoulder, gasping breathlessly as he followed right behind Steve, wetness slicking the way and making it even better somehow.

He sucked in deep breaths, reluctant to give up Bucky’s weight over him, but soon had to squirm out from under him to catch his breath. Bucky slipped his hand under Steve’s shirt and rubbed his chest.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, breathing easier now that Bucky wasn’t on top of him anymore.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispered, holding onto him tightly. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Stevie.”

Steve ran his hand over Bucky’s back, feeling Bucky’s tears against his neck, the sound of Bucky sniffling against his ear. “I’ll be here when you get home.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Some of the dialogue is from the movie and the screenplay, “Captain America: The First Avenger.” Do not claim as mine. This is a disclaimer. I’m also trying to develop a timeline of events based on clues from the screenplay, the movie, and a lot of Googling! Also: More Stucky sexytimes.

Bucky: I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know there’re three and a half million women here?

Steve: I’d settle for just one.

Bucky: Good thing I’ve taken care of that.

Steve: What’d you tell her about me?

Bucky: Only the good stuff.

 

  * Captain America: The First Avenger



 

**June, 1942**

 

Steve bent over, wincing from the bruise on his face, as he looked up to see Bucky wearing his uniform, frowning mulishly. He always felt a sense of pride, seeing Bucky in his uniform. In just the few short months since Bucky enlisted, at the Battle of Bataan in the Philippines, Private Barnes saved the life of his LT, got his company to safety, and earned himself a distinguished medal and the first of many field promotions from Private to Private First Class. When Bucky proved to be a good shot, he caught the eye of the battalion commander, who took Bucky out of the field and sent him to Camp Perry, in Ohio, for advanced marksmanship courses.

Bucky never bragged about it in his letters to Steve, but it was big news in the neighborhood, Mrs. Barnes telling every tale of Bucky’s heroism to anyone who would listen. It was as if Bucky just grew up overnight, it was obvious in the way that he held his body, his sharply pressed uniform, black shoes spit polished, the medals on his chest, the cocky tilt to his hat, all of that made Bucky shine with glory and pride. His best friend was a hero.

“Looks like you got your orders.”

Bucky straightened his shoulders. “The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out to England first thing tomorrow.” He gave Steve a small smile and curled his arm behind his shoulders. “This is my last night.”

“So what’s the first stop? Church?”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah…maybe the second stop. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

“So where we going?”

Bucky handed him the newspaper, the headline read “World Exhibition of Tomorrow.”

“The future,” Bucky said, smiling widely. “Heard that Howard Stark is going to be showing off a flying car at the Modern Marvels Pavilion. I don’t want to miss it.”

***

Steve sat on the narrow kitchen counter as Bucky blotted a towel against his cut lip, checking over his face for any other injuries.

“I swear, one day, I ain’t gonna be there to haul your ass out of a fight,” he said, tossing the towel into the small sink.

“I can take care of myself; have done since you’ve been off to war,” Steve said, mulishly. He hopped off the counter and followed Bucky into the small living room, watching as Bucky walked towards the far wall, looking at the latest sketches that Steve was working on.

“These are nice,” Bucky murmured, tapping his finger on a recent sketch of Bucky in his uniform. Steve even got the cocky angle of his hat right in the drawing.

“You know you look good in uniform,” Steve said, rolling down his shirt sleeves and buttoning them at the cuffs.

“No one sees me like you do, though.”

Steve grinned but rolled his eyes. “That’s because no one knows what a big jerk you really are.”

“Aw, come on now,” Bucky said, turning to face him, standing tall in the middle of the room. “I just saved your hide from another back alley whooping, is that how you’re gonna repay me?”

“You want me to repay you, huh?” Steve said, looking him up and down.

Bucky licked his lips, giving Steve his most playful look. “What’s a fella got to do around here to get a proper farewell?”

He snorted, chuckling softly. “Yeah? You want to do this now?”

“We still got a couple of hours to kill before Stark’s show,” Bucky said, taking off his hat and getting ready to toss it on the table.

“Keep it on,” Steve blurted, feeling his face flush at such boldness. “In fact, keep it all on and come here, sit down.”

Bucky laughed, following Steve’s order, and sat down carefully on the couch. He put his hat back on and, as an afterthought, tilted it slightly to the side. His blue eyes were bright with amusement, his smile curving up his lips.

“Don’t make a mess of my uniform,” he warned, watching as Steve knelt down on the floor between his spread legs.

“Don’t worry, wouldn’t want to leave any stains your pants,” Steve said, unhooking the brown leather belt at Bucky’s waist, pulling it off and setting it aside on the couch. “I know you like being all pristine in your greens.”

“It’s called a Class A dress uniform, pal.”

Steve rolled his eyes, carefully undoing the brass buttons of Bucky’s olive dress uniform jacket, pushing it open to reveal the dark green uniform shirt underneath. He had a small US Army emblem tie clip, holding his tie to his dress shirt, and Steve stroked his hands up and down Bucky’s chest, feeling the outline of the tank shirt and the firm muscles under the shirt. He’d gotten a little beefier since he joined up, the Army life keeping Bucky strong and fit. No doubt a steady diet of three square rations helped with that, too.

“So you’re just gonna unbutton me and go to town?”

“Yep,” he murmured, undoing the button at his pants and pulling down the zipper. Bucky wore dark olive shorts underneath, outlining his hard dick under the cotton. Steve grinned up at Bucky as he reached into the front flap, pulling out just the head and circling it with the tips of his fingers. “I’ll catch every last drop, Buck.”

Bucky inhaled, easing back into the couch, his eyes darkening as he watched Steve lean over him, slipping the head carefully into his mouth.

“Jesus, Stevie…”

In the years since Steve started having sex and going with girls, he had only ever done this for Bucky. He liked making time with the dames, sure, and other guys might have caught his eye, but he **loved** doing this for Bucky. And Bucky was the first one to do this for him, to teach him what this felt like on the other side of things. A few dames had reciprocated and put their hands or mouths on Steve in this intimate way, but none of them had the kind of skill or sheer enthusiasm that Bucky had. Steve would never admit such a thing to anyone, ever, but in the deepest secret part of his mind, it was Bucky’s mouth that made him moan loudest and longest.

“Oh, baby,” Bucky crooned, running his hands through Steve’s hair. “Keep going, keep going.”

Steve suckled on the head, keeping his mouth wet with spit, just a slow, steady pressure at the tip. Bucky liked it gentle, with little licks over the hole, and long sucks.

“Just like that,” he whispered, leaning his head back against the back of the couch, his hat sliding forward and nearly covering his eyes.

Steve flicked his eyes up to see Bucky’s shadowed eyes staring down at him, his mouth parted, panting quietly. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the spit and taste of Bucky in his mouth, resuming his gentle sucking, bouncing his head slightly up and down.

He felt Bucky’s thighs tense and tremble; Steve knew he was getting ready to spill in his mouth. He breathed through his nose to clear his airway as best he could, preparing to begin swallowing as soon as Bucky started to swell up.

“Ah…ah…here it comes, baby, just a little more, Stevie, keep going like that, it’s gonna be all yours— _ohhhh_ …”

Steve tasted the first spurt on his tongue and he quickly swallowed it down, licking over the tip and sucking harder, trying to pull every drop out of Bucky’s dick. Bucky was making so much noise now, it was starting to make Steve get a little embarrassed at how dirty Bucky sounded when he liked it.

He felt Bucky shiver a few times, grunting as Bucky reached down to shove his hand under his shorts to squeeze out every last bit, and Steve kept licking and swallowing, true to his word that he wasn’t going to make a mess of Bucky’s uniform.

“Stevie,” Bucky murmured, gently pushing his head back and off his cock. Steve pulled off and took a steady breath. He wasn’t fond of the taste too much, he didn’t think he’d ever really get used to it. He watched as Bucky tucked himself back under his shorts carefully, wiping his palm on the couch fabric.

“Really? On my couch, Buck?” Steve said, getting off his sore knees, feeling a bit wobbly as he stood. He slid his hand down the front of his pants, soothing his own hard dick, and gave Bucky a fond smile.

Bucky laughed, languid and open. “Sorry, Stevie, but it was either wipe it on my jacket, on you, or on the couch.”

“You could’ve just asked me to get you a towel,” Steve complained, but grinned as he walked into the kitchen to get the towel from the sink and tossing it over the couch towards Bucky. He rinsed his mouth out at the sink and spat out the bitter-sour taste, and then washed his face and hands for good measure.

Bucky was straightening his clothes, inspecting his pants carefully make sure that there wasn’t a stain on him, and he smiled at Steve, buttoning up his jacket and putting on his belt.

“Want me to take care of you?”

Steve leaned against the counter, cocking his head and looking Bucky over, up and down. “I’m all right for now. Maybe you can stop by later, say goodbye to me proper. Besides, it’s not respectful to keep the girls waiting.”

Bucky’s grin widened, he took off his hat and smoothed back his hair, and set his hat back on his head. “You’re the man with the plan, Stevie.”

***

It was obvious that Bucky was going to have a good time with his girl, Connie, but her friend, Bonnie, hadn’t wanted to do anything with Steve. That was all right, the night worked out in the best way possible. Dr. Erskine had stamped the 1A on his enlistment card and he would be shipping out to Camp Lehigh for Basic training in one week. Steve didn’t know how to feel, after feeling nothing but disappointment and rejection and anger for so long. He was probably excited and scared, but he was determined not to mess up the one chance that he finally got.

_But what was he going to tell Bucky?_

_Would he even tell Bucky?_

He knew what Bucky would say; had heard enough of Bucky not wanting Steve to join up. He didn’t want their last night together to be a fight. Steve couldn’t predict the future, maybe nothing would pan out and he’d be stuck back at being a 4F-er again. He didn’t want to get Bucky’s hopes up and then fall off the edge.

He tried to do some sketching, focused on drawing Bucky’s smiling eyes, the curve of his mouth, the dip in his chin. It was after midnight when he heard Bucky’s familiar steps up the stairs to his door, the sound of the key sliding in and turning. Steve tucked his drawings away and stood up to see Bucky sauntering inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Did you have fun?”

Bucky locked the door and inhaled slowly, grinning at Steve. “Was all right. I think Connie likes me too much, but she was a good girl, gave me a little kiss and everything.”

“She give you her handkerchief, too?”

“She’s a good girl,” he said, taking off his hat, chuckling a little. “I’m might be a bit sauced.”

Steve snorted, walking into his small bedroom, knowing that Bucky would follow. “Too sauced for this?”

“I’m never too sauced for this,” Bucky said, walking into Steve’s bedroom, already shucking off his jacket. “Get undressed, Stevie.”

He slipped out of his shirt and his pants, tossing them on the small bench in the corner. He got under the covers and sat up, watching Bucky slowly strip out of his uniform.

“I still can’t get over seeing Howard Stark and his flying car. Wasn’t that amazing?” Bucky’s face was all boyish admiration, eyes wide and smile open. “That Howard Stark is a genius; how does a guy get that smart and that rich and that—that brilliant? It’s like he knows what the future has in store for all of us.”

Steve chuckled. “Might’ve been more amazing if it actually worked.”

“I tell ya, the future is going to be a technological wonder. You think we’ll live to see a time when we’ll all be driving flying cars?”

Bucky stripped off his shirt and undershirt, folding everything carefully and putting his clothes on top of Steve’s on the bench. He untied his shoes and slipped them off, bending to tug off his black socks.

“Well, if Stark figures out how to make it work, sure, maybe after the war even,” Steve said, smiling. “You want me to keep sending you those science magazines you like?”

Bucky’s face broke into a wide, happy smile as he took off his trousers. “Yeah? Only if you can afford it. You know ma sends me a care package every month. Half way around the world in the Pacific and she’ll get a box out to me.”

“Will you hurry up?” Steve said, impatiently. “I’m gonna start without you in a hot minute, Buck.”

He watched as Bucky licked his lips, pushing his shorts off his hips, dropping them to the floor. He was long and lean, his body looked like a man’s, and Steve scrambled up on his knees, pushing the covers off and making room for Bucky.

“How do you want it?”

“Sit up, like this,” Steve said, crawling over Bucky’s lap so he was on top. “Think you can do it sitting up?”

Bucky curled his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him close. “I’ll do it whichever way you want.”

“Sweet talker,” he said, chuckling. “Wait, let me get the Vaseline. You want me to put on the rubber on you?”

Steve bent over as he dug into his side drawer, looking for the near-empty jar of Vaseline. When Bucky didn’t say anything, he turned his head to look at Bucky, raising his eyebrows in question.

“We really need the rubber?”

“Weren’t you the one always going on and on about venereal disease?”

“I ain’t got none and you don’t either,” he said, sitting back with his arms stretched out behind him, palms planted firmly on the mattress. “Come here, just bring the Vaseline, I want to feel what it’s like bare, with you.”

“Okay,” Steve said, tossing him the jar and knee-walking back to Bucky, slipping into his lap, legs spread wide over Bucky’s thighs.

They had done this a dozen times and Steve liked it best when he could sit on top of Bucky. He could breathe easier and he could touch Bucky’s face, kiss his mouth, and hold tight to him. He liked the way Bucky felt under him, strong and lusty, giving it to Steve hard and fast.

Bucky’s fingers smoothed the Vaseline against Steve’s hole, gently pushing inside of him. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to take a deep, slow breath, getting used to the feel of Bucky’s thick fingers inside of him.

“Push the middle finger in deep—oh yes!”

Steve circled his hips as Bucky pushed three fingers into him, the stretch felt good but Bucky’s dick would feel even better.

“Yeah?” Bucky murmured, watching Steve’s reactions. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking down to see Bucky spreading more Vaseline over the head and down the length of his dick.

“Hold on to me,” Bucky told him, grabbing Steve by the hip with his left hand, using his other hand to hold his dick in place, the tip of his pressing against Steve’s hole. “Easy now…”

It felt different without the rubber between them and Steve furrowed his forehead, working his way down Bucky’s length in a slow and steady manner.

“You feel hot,” Steve whispered, feeling his hole spread wide, taking more of Bucky.

“You feel incredible,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth and letting Steve do what he needed. “Jesus, Stevie, I ain’t gonna last very long without the rubber.”

“Want me to pull off and get you one?”

Bucky opened his eyes and glared up at him as Steve smirked. “Punk.”

Steve rose up a little, trembling at the way that the rim of his hole dragged around Bucky’s dick, and then he slid back down, a whole new sensation making him crazy. Up or down, it felt good, Steve couldn’t decide which way felt better, so he kept moving up and down, groaning at the feel of Bucky working his way into him.

“Damn,” Bucky whispered, hands curled around Steve’s hips. “Tell me you’re ready. Fucking fuck—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready, Buck—“

They both let out a heady groan as Bucky practically lifted Steve up and then dragged him back down, hard and fast, hips thrusting wildly, the springs of the mattress squeaking loudly.

“I think I like it even better without the rubbers—“

“Jesus, don’t talk, I can’t concentrate—“

“Yes, do that again, that felt so good—“

“Oh God, Stevie, oh God!”

“Please, go faster Bucky, please—“

“I’m trying for God’s sake—“

They groaned again and Steve muffled the sounds by kissing Bucky’s mouth, sucking on his tongue and panting into each other’s mouths. Steve grabbed a handful of Bucky’s hair and tugged his head back, shivering when Bucky let out a throaty, needy sound. He bounced on Bucky’s dick, strong hands helping Steve keep up his rhythm, both of them straining towards shared pleasure.

“Goddamn…you’re light as a feather, Stevie,” Bucky said, panting hoarsely. “Fuck!”

“ _Shhh_ …keep it down, will ya?”

“Not gonna last.” Bucky chuckled, hands gripping Steve’s thin waist. “I can’t! God, if you only knew what this feels like!”

“Kinda got an idea,” Steve said, voice husky and low. “Touch—touch me, I’m almost ready to spill— _ohhhh_ Bucky. Buck!”

“ _Shhhhh_ ,” Bucky teased, chuckling. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s dick and stroked him quickly, just under the head, the way that Steve liked it best. “You’re gonna wake all the neighbors with your hollering— _ohhhh shit_!”

Bucky  shuddered, eyes widening in surprise as he stared up at Steve, and then pumped into him in short, quick bursts, biting down on his bottom lip as he tried to stifle his moan.  

Steve buried his face against Bucky’s warm shoulder, biting down on the thick muscle, trying to muffle his moans. “Can’t…have to…have to…oh Bucky.”

He spilled against Bucky’s belly, strong arms holding him through the shakes, and both of them fell back on the bed. Bucky gently moved Steve off of him and they both turned on their sides, facing each other.

“That…that was amazing,” Bucky panted, smiling beatifically. “I didn’t even know I was gonna spill until it happened.”

Steve snorted, burying his face into the covers. “I think I need to go to the bathroom or something. I’m leaking everywhere, Bucky.”

Bucky burst out into a loud laugh, curling one arm around Steve, muffling his laughter against the bedding. He stroked his hand over Steve’s head, comforting and companionable, until their giggles died away and they could look each other in the eye again.

“Well, there’s one for the history books, huh?”

Steve snickered, scooting closer to Bucky, curling against his warmth. “Shut up, will ya?”

“We should get cleaned up before we fall asleep,” Bucky said, sighing happily.

“Just stay like this for a sec, okay? I just want this a little longer.”

“All right, Stevie,” he murmured, tugging Steve closer. “Maybe we can wake up early and go back to ma’s for breakfast, see everyone before I ship out.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Bucky kissed Steve’s forehead. “I’ve always wanted to go to England.”

“You think they’ll send you right into the heart of the war?”

“Yeah,” Bucky told him, softly. “A lot of men are losing their lives; if we don’t turn the tide of battle against the Nazis, God knows what they’ll do to the rest of the world.”

Steve raised his head and looked at Bucky, meeting his eyes. “No matter what, you just make sure that you come back home.”

 _Come back home to me_ , Steve thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Steve/OFC 
> 
> Quotes from "Captain America: The First Avenger" movie screenplay.

Senator Brandt: You don’t take a soldier, a symbol, like this and hide him in a lab. He needs to be out there, showing the world what the American fighting man is made of. (To Steve) Son, do you want to serve your country? On the most important battlefield in this war?

Steve: That’s all I want.

Senator Brandt: Then congratulations. You just got promoted.

  * Captain America: The First Avenger



[ ](http://s769.photobucket.com/user/house_of_lantis/media/capveronica.png.html)

**"** _Who’s Cap Kissing **Now**?” _

_“Has Howard Stark Lost His Playboy Crown to Cap?”_

**Hollywoodland, California**

**July, 1943**

 

Steve loved the West Coast, loved the sunshine of California, and loved the clear, warm blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. After 140 shows on the USO Tour, Hollywood came calling and lured Steve into the Golden Age of the silver screen.

_“It’s the pictures, Rogers, it’s just what we need to get the word out to every last American from coast to coast.”_

_“Think of all the people who can’t come see you on the tour, but will be able to see Captain America on the big screen.”_

_“MGM and Paramount Pictures and Warner Brothers have been calling the Senator’s office night and day. Since you’re an American icon, they’ve all agreed to bypass the studio system and made you a free agent so you can make two short pictures with each of the big movie companies.”_

_“Think of all the good that you’re going to do with these patriotic pictures. Everyone is going to love them; and think of all the war bonds that people will want to buy in order to support the boys overseas.”_

_“You’re going to get to meet all the movie stars – Judy Garland, Veronica Lake, Hedy Lamarr, Joan Fontaine, Rita Hayworth, Ingrid Bergman – and all of them want to meet you: Captain America.”_

_“It’s your patriotic duty, son!”_

Steve grinned, feeling his ears buzz with warmth. “Well, I’m sure they’re all lovely dames – I mean, lovely girls. Um, lovely women.”

He worked his way through all the major Hollywood studios, diligently and professionally working on the movie lot, giving his best Captain America performance. Over a year on the USO Tour, putting on nightly shows, meeting fans, taking pictures with screaming babies, kissing pretty girls, and crisscrossing the United States with the dancing girls and the show’s crew and chaperones and PR managers, Steve finally felt comfortable in his new skin, in his new body, and in his role as Captain America. And that confidence showed itself in the movies that he made; in the commercials that he acted in with famous Hollywood actresses. He even got to do a few radio comedies with veteran vaudeville actor Bob Hope.

_“Son, the road is a lonely place,” Bob often told him, a drink in one hand, wandering eyes looking over the pretty girls from Steve’s show. “You’ve got to pace yourself; learn to find love in the small moments. Now, pardon me, kid, but I think that lovely blonde is giving me a look.”_

_Steve frowned, turning to see Patricia giving Bob a wide smile, her bright green eyes inviting. He grabbed Bob’s arm and squeezed his hand firmly, just enough to leave a reminder. “Mr. Hope, now I know you’ll treat Ms. Patricia with all the respect and care due to her.”_

_Bob met Steve’s hard gaze, face flushing slightly. “Nothing less than, son, nothing less.”_

Los Angeles was a magical place, gorgeous views of the ocean, orange groves, and new housing and highway developments.

 _Bucky would love it out here_ , he thought often, wishing that Bucky was with Steve, experiencing this with him. _You wouldn’t ever believe it, Buck; little old Stevie Rogers from Brooklyn playing hero soldier on the silver screen._

Steve thought about buying a pretty little house on the hill, bringing Bucky out to California and settling down. How was it that Los Angeles seemed to only have beautiful men and women, and all of them wanted Steve’s attention?

Somewhat guiltily, he allowed himself to be caught by a few of them, bedding them in their fancy hillside mansions. He had learned that if he was discreet enough, he could make time with anyone, as long as it was kept out of the public eye and away from the reporters looking for a juicy Hollywoodland scandal.

For two months, Steve lived the kind of life he always imagined that the rich and famous of Hollywood lived – parties and glamour and screaming fans wanting his autograph; all those nights that he and Bucky would fantasize about what it would be like to take a beautiful dame like Rita Hayworth out on the town (Steve was impressed that she was just as smart as she was beautiful); if Lana Turner was as sweet in real life (she was, and she loved the idea of romance and Steve was relieved that she didn’t expect him to try and bed her); if Ingrid Bergman was a classy lady (Steve thought she was one of the most considerate and unpretentious people he’d ever met).

Whenever the studio arranged for Steve to take a Hollywood leading lady out on the town, there was always a nice picture of them in the papers the next day. Steve clipped as many as he could get his hands on and wrote long letters to Bucky, folding the clippings in and mailing them to his unit. He didn’t know if Bucky was getting any mail; Steve hadn’t gotten any letters from him, but it was hard to get personal mail while he was on his Tour. Captain America received fan mail by the bag every day and he tried his best to answer every one of them, often including an autographed picture, but there were no letters for Steve Rogers.

Of all his favorite movie stars, he was particularly drawn to the mercurial Veronica Lake. Paramount had paired Steve with the actress several times, playing up the fact that they were from the same hometown and red carpet sweethearts.

_“Captain America and Veronica Lake: Hollywood’s Golden Couple!”_

Steve soon discovered a kindred spirit with her. She was a real Brooklyn girl, in her blood, her accent coming out when she wasn’t in the public eye. He felt comfortable with her and he liked her brash way of talking, when she wasn’t playing the role of the perfect Hollywood actress. She was honest and sexy and lovely. She was the first woman to take Steve under her wing, carefully guiding him through the dangerous shark-like waters of Hollywood.

“You could do anything in your life, so why acting?”

“It was just something to do. I don’t have some life affirming reason, Steve, don’t look too deep.”

“But why change your name? Does everyone change their names?”

“This from the man who’s called Captain America?” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Because, silly, Connie Ockelman’s not a movie star name.”

“I think Constance is a nice name,” he said, smiling at her, dropping his hands to unbutton the tiny row of silk-covered buttons down the front of her pale blue chiffon gown.

“Constance is too traditional a name; it sounds like someone’s wife or a schoolteacher. The studios want me to be an ice cold princess bitch,” she once told Steve, as she pushed him down on her white velvet couch, straddling his lap. She tugged on the bowtie of his tuxedo and dipped her head, her long blonde hair falling over her right eye in that familiar peek-a-boo fashion. Steve opened his mouth and stared up at her. Veronica snorted, unladylike and amused. “Don’t fall for it, darling.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said, reaching up to tuck her fallen hair behind her ear.

“Everybody’s just acting, this life is empty and unsatisfying. No one ever really loves you, it’s all just make believe, Steve, don’t ever forget it.”

“Then why don’t you leave—“

And she kissed him, hot and wet, her tongue in his mouth. Steve wanted to fall in love with her, to bring her back home to Brooklyn after the USO Tour, after the war. But she was right, Hollywood was make believe; he was finished making pictures and he’d be back on the USO Tour again, headlining on 45 more shows through the southern states, and then back up to New York City and, finally, across the Atlantic Ocean to play for the soldiers overseas.

“You can call me Connie when you fuck me,” she murmured against his lips.

Veronica tucked her slender hand down the front of Steve’s pants and Steve wondered if he’d get to see Bucky when the Tour went to Europe.

***

Later, Steve carefully left Veronica’s bed and got dressed. He stood at the window, looking out at the dazzling lights of Los Angeles below. It was so brightly lit; Steve couldn’t see any stars in the nighttime sky. But this was Hollywood and all the stars were down there, in the city, just within reach but untouchable.

He sighed softly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants, and looked up at the night, wondering what kind of stars Bucky saw, wherever he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'm finally getting to Steve getting over to Italy and having his reunion with Bucky and the 107th.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: The line that Bucky says to Hodges is from the TV series “Band of Brothers.” The whole reason for this fic is because I wanted to use that line in the story. Cheers!

Jones: Wait, you sure you know what you’re doing?

Steve: Sure. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over 200 times.

  * Captain America: The First Avenger



 

 

**Azzano, Italy**

**October 1943**

 

“Steve, the men need to rest,” Bucky said, running up to Steve at the front of the group of men. He wasn’t out of breath, but he looked tired and in need of food, rest, and medical treatment. “The men are falling behind; we got a bunch of them on the tank, but we’re not going to make it to the base without a few hours off our feet.”

Steve stopped walking and turned to look at the soldiers behind him. They looked worn and exhausted, bodies weakened from not enough food, the adrenaline from their escape ebbing away. They looked ready to drop but stubbornly followed behind, all eyes staring at him.

He frowned, turning to look at his best friend. “Buck, can you set up the first watch, rotate in the men who can keep up?”

Bucky turned to look at the three men standing nearby. “You – Dum Dum – take six men and check our flanks, make sure those HYDRA sons-of-bitches aren’t following us. Jonesy, you get a few fellas together and take the right; Morita, you and the boys take the left.” Steve watched as Bucky took command, carrying out his orders to the letter. He felt a jolt of pride, seeing Bucky in action, casually slinging his weapon over his shoulder, walking through the group of men. “We got any medics in the group?”

“Sarge! Thompson’s a medic.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Fell back to the rear to help some of the men who were falling behind.”

“Hey, we got any supplies left? Water? Rations?” Bucky called, walking back towards the tank.

“Got some water here, Sergeant Barnes!”

“How much we got, Private?”

“Not a lot.”

“Okay, go find Thompson, tell him to share it with the men who need it the most,” Bucky said, looking at the men who were still on their feet. “All right, come on, help me get the men off the tank so we can set up shelter!”

Steve kept his eyes on the rag-tag group of survivors. They had gotten captured months ago, used as forced labor for HYDRA to building weapons. They were scarred, malnourished, underweight, and unusually silent. Steve had heard from some of the others that a number of the men were taken to be experimented on, never returning. His eyes moved to Bucky, helping men off the tank and setting up an area where they could rest without fear.

Bucky had been one of those taken, God knew what they did to him, but he had survived; Steve had found him, gotten him and the other men out.

He walked up to Bucky, stood beside him, a shallow, vain part of him a little jazzed that he was taller than Bucky now. “Are the men all right? Do we have enough water or food for them?”

Bucky sighed, nodding. “No food, but we have some water. We’ll have to ration it, give some to the men with the most need. It’ll carry us for the night.”

“We’re about halfway to base; we’ll rest for a few hours, but then we should get back on the road,” Steve said, decisively.

Bucky turned to look up at him, a small smirk on his lips. “All right, Captain.”

Steve felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his gaze. “It’s not a real rank, Bucky.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna talk about that in a little bit,” Bucky said, raising his eyebrow at him. He looked Steve over up and down. “We’re gonna have a real long talk about a lot of things, Stevie.”

***

“Jesus. _Captain America_. Really, Steve?”

They had left the men to keep watch and walked about two miles away from their campsite for some privacy. None of the men begrudged them the time to catch up: One man, who went on a suicide mission to rescue his best pal from the old neighborhood, well, they deserved to have some private time. But Steve knew it wasn’t going to be a happy reunion; he knew Bucky would want answers. And maybe sock Steve in the face for getting in this mess in the first place.

Steve took a deep breath, leaning against the trunk of the tree. “Well, you want the short version or the long version?”

“I want the honest to God truth, Stevie,” Bucky said, firmly.

“Remember your last night in Brooklyn before you shipped out? We went to the Expo?”

Bucky frowned, nodding. “Yeah.”

“I met Dr. Abraham Erskine. He was a scientist in charge of Project Rebirth,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “He offered me a chance to serve my country, Buck, I couldn’t say no.”

Bucky glared at him. “You couldn’t say no? You couldn’t say no to being a fucking science experiment? What if you’d died, Steve? What if you’d turned into something else…some kind of monster like that Red Skull!”

“I didn’t,” Steve said, roughly. “I’m not a monster. I’m just a man who wanted to do something with my life!”

“Something with your life,” Bucky said, derisively. “And what the fuck have you been doing the past goddamn year? Dancing on a stage with a bunch of dames in that—that get up? Selling war bonds to the folks back home? Playing soldier in movies? Goddamn it, Steve, we’ve been out here fighting for our lives and the lives of people everywhere! This isn’t a fucking game—“

“I know it’s not a game!” Steve shouted, standing at his full height and glaring down at Bucky. “Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what’s been going on—“

“You don’t know shit about what’s been going on out here, Steve! You think any one of us wouldn’t do anything to get back home, sitting with our family at the dinner table, taking our girls out dancing? You think we want to be out here, killing people – those same people who left their own families to come out here to do this dirty business for our countries? It ain’t a fucking movie! I’ve watched good men die, my men, Steve, men in my company, getting their arms and legs blown off! And when the Nazis shelled us for fifteen nights straight, I had to listen to my men cry in their foxholes, piss and shit in their pants because we were so goddamn scared that one of those fucking things would blow up our fucking heads! You think it was fun seeing men starve to death; or taken away to be tortured and none of us could do anything about it? You think for one minute I wanted any of that for you! You think—you think I’d be able to live with myself if you were killed out here? The things I’ve seen, Steve, no man should have to fucking see. Fuck—fuck!”

Bucky lost his breath, face wet and red, coughing his throat dry.

Steve grabbed for Bucky’s shoulders. “Bucky – Buck, I got you—“

“Fuck you!” Bucky hollered, fighting against him. “Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Bucky,” Steve said, using his strength to hold Bucky still, keeping him close. “Shhh…it’s all right, I’m here. I’m with you. You’re all right, Bucky. I swear, you’re gonna be all right.”

Bucky let out a loud shout and shuddered, burying his face against Steve’s neck and sobbing quietly. Steve held him close, arms around his back. He reached up to stroke his hand down the back of Bucky’s head, his hair unwashed and mottled with sweat and dirt and dried blood. He stank to high heaven, but Steve wouldn’t let him go, never again.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” he said, softly, against Bucky’s ear. “You’ve always been so brave. I’ve always wanted to be like you, strong and proud—“

“Not at the expense of this,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head against Steve’s neck. “Punk. I’m gonna miss being able to curl around you. I guess it’s your turn now.”

Steve chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of Bucky’s head. “Yeah?”

Bucky raised his head and wiped his face clean with the dirty sleeve of his green sweater. He sniffled and then cleared his throat, looking up at Steve. “It’s so fucking weird that you’re taller than me now. Makes no lick of sense.”

“Sorry?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and snickered, shaking his head. He looked up at Steve again, blue eyes looking at his face, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Steve caught his breath, lips parting in anticipation, as Bucky leaned closer to him.

The kiss was gentle, a tentative press of lips against Steve’s mouth.

“Feels like I’m kissing someone else,” Bucky murmured, kissing Steve again and again, chaste and affectionate.

It felt new to Steve, too, but familiar at the same time. Bucky’s lips were still plush, but felt smaller against Steve’s new mouth. He tilted his head slightly, their noses brushing, Bucky’s warm breath sliding across Steve’s cheek. Steve held him closer and kissed Bucky, pressing their lips firmer until he felt Bucky’s soft moan, mouth opening so that Steve could lick into it.

“Hmmm…gonna take some getting used to,” Bucky said, smiling against Steve’s mouth. “Guess you’re just gonna have to kiss me a lot, let me get a new feel for it.”

“Such a burden,” Steve said, sardonically.

Bucky chuckled, his hands squeezing Steve’s shoulders and upper arms. “Jesus…what the hell kind of serum can give you muscles like these? It’s not real.”

“I’m still me,” Steve said, ducking his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Still little old Stevie Rogers.”

Bucky smiled and tapped Steve’s chest with his fingers. “Even when you were little old Stevie Rogers, you were always this on the inside.”

Steve grinned, feeling a small bit of pride at Bucky’s acknowledgement of the man he was, no matter what shell he occupied. “To the end of the line, pal.”

“Always,” Bucky promised, meeting his eyes. He reached up and gave Steve another kiss, long and firm and needy. “Better head on back. I don’t know when we’ll have time for privacy before they ship you back, but…”

“Don’t think that they’ll get rid of me so easily, Bucky,” he said, stubbornly.

Bucky laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “So just how many dames did you make time with?”

“You know that’s not a gentlemanly question, Buck,” he said, giving Bucky a sly grin. “But let’s just say that you’re not going to be able to beat my number in your whole lifetime.”

Bucky reached up and curled his arm behind Steve’s neck. He made a disgruntled noise at the awkward angle of his arm. Steve tried to duck down slightly, a rueful smile on his lips.

“Damn it! It’s not gonna work,” he grumbled, half up on his toes as he tried to tug Steve in for a side hug.

It was Steve who threw back his head and laughed for a long time, curling his arm behind Bucky’s back. “I’ll tell you about all the times I knocked my head on the doorway because I didn’t think to duck down. And I still have to remind myself not to use my full strength when I squeeze toothpaste on my toothbrush.”

Bucky smiled, cocking his head to look at Steve. “Well, kiddo, you look real good.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

He leered at Steve, giving him a jaunty wink. “When we get back to camp, you’re gonna have to show me if other parts of you grew, too.”

“Bucky!”

***

“You know, they’re going to probably toss you in jail,” Bucky said, slyly.

Steve made a face. “Probably.”

“They can’t do that to him,” Dum Dum protested loudly. “If it weren’t for him, we’d all be slaving away for those Nazi bastards or we’d all be dead!”

“The Captain should get a medal!”

“He’s a hero!”

“We’re with you, Cap!”

“Yeah, Cap!”

There were loud murmurs of agreement from the men behind them. Steve appreciated the support, and he knew that he’d done the right thing, but he was also realistic enough to know that he went against orders and used the military to go on a mission for the sake of one man. It was worth it in Steve’s mind. Finding Bucky was a long shot but one that Steve had to take; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself or face the Barnes family again if he hadn’t tried.

Bucky grinned, looking over at Steve. “I guess you won over the men, **Cap**.”

It felt like a victory march into the base; not the men cheering at their return, but the way that Bucky walked beside him and the way that Agent Peggy Carter looked at him. She was a sight for sore eyes; and Steve felt his chest swell with the knowledge that he had gotten Bucky and Peggy was looking at him like she expected nothing less than his best. It stirred something deep inside of him, some kind of primordial ancient feeling, like something of a conquering hero returning after a long battle, to his best guy and his best girl, opening their arms to welcome him home.

“Where do you hurt, soldier?”

Steve turned to see Bucky smiling at the pretty nurse, all Brooklyn bad boy charm in the way he regarded the young woman.

“Well, ma’am, I hurt all over,” he said, sighing deeply. “I could use a bit of a lie down; maybe a real nice nurse can look me over.”

The nurse laughed and rolled her eyes a little in good humor, but took him by his arm and led him towards the medical tents. “Come along, Sergeant, we’ll get you thoroughly checked out.”

Bucky chuckled, biting his bottom lip and turning to look at Steve, wiggling his eyebrows meaningfully at him.

Steve snorted and shook his head in amusement. Well, if that wasn’t a sure sign that Bucky was on the road to recovery, then he didn’t know what else it could be. It figured that Bucky Barnes, beat up and bloodied, stinking to high heaven, could still flirt with a pretty girl in the middle of a world war. Steve sighed and looked at Peggy, giving her a warm smile.

“Let’s get you debriefed, Captain,” she told him, raising her eyebrow, the corner of her lip quirked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

Steve checked on the returned men every day, sitting quietly with those who were physically healing, but psychologically disturbed by their capture. He didn’t know the words to say, the doctors told him that there wasn’t anything he could say and that some men may have physically left the battle but their minds didn’t know how, so Steve sat with them, read letters from home to them, or said a quiet prayer for them.

Bucky seemed to be doing better, but Steve had caught Bucky unaware a few times, and saw the way that Bucky jumped in fear, his hand going to the knife that he worse under his jacket.

“Shit, don’t sneak up on me, I’m still kinda jumpy after everything,” Bucky hissed at him, running a shaky hand through his disheveled hair.

It wasn’t the shaky hand that got Steve’s attention. It was the way that Bucky didn’t seem to care about his physical appearance. And maybe that was a shallow thing to think, but Steve honestly couldn’t remember a time, no matter how bad things were, that Bucky didn’t take care of himself.

“Sorry, Buck,” he said, carefully. “You doing all right?”

“I’m fine, just leave off it, okay?” Bucky sat down on his cot, his hands curled over the edge, and let out a deep breath. “The Colonel said that the whole company’s headed back to England for a few weeks to resupply, shuttle some of the worse off men to the big hospitals back stateside, and get new replacements for the company.”

“Yeah, Peggy—I mean, um, Agent Carter told me the same.” He said, looking forward to getting Bucky away from the front.

Bucky gave him a sidelong glance. “Guess you’re a little sweet on her, huh?”

“The first time I saw her was at Camp LeHigh; she punched Hodge in the face for talking disrespectfully to her, right in front of the Colonel and he didn’t even bat an eye,” Steve said, a little wistfully, sitting down on the cot next to Bucky. “I’ve never met a woman like her at all.”

“Figures, that you’d be taken by a dame like that. I can’t imagine why that would’ve caught your eye,” Bucky said, teasingly.

“It wasn’t that, Buck.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “She saw me, you know, before all this. I think she liked me, I mean, liked me as a person, not by what I looked like.”

“Listen, pal, if she likes you only because of the way that you look now, then maybe she ain’t the kind of dame you want to be with.”

Steve smiled, tilting his head to look at Bucky. “I got a lot of attention when I became like this, you know. I can kind of tell when someone wants to be with me only because of the way that I look.”

“Mail call!”

They turned to see a private rap his knuckles against the metal pole of the tent flap, carrying a duffel over his shoulder. “Hey, Sarge. Captain America, sir.”

Steve grinned at the young, enthusiastic man. He didn’t think he’d ever get over hearing people address him by his stage name like it was a real rank.

“What’s your name?”

The young man went to attention. “Private First Class Daniel McFeely, sir.”

Steve nodded, staring at the young soldier. He didn’t move from his position. Bucky cleared his throat and Steve looked at him, puzzled. Bucky widened his eyes and motioned to the younger man with his head.

Steve mouthed, _what?_

Bucky mouthed back, _at ease!_

He didn’t understand what Bucky was telling him. Bucky rolled his eyes and sucked in his gut and sat up straight, going cross-eyed, motioning his head to the kid.

“Oh!” Steve said, finally getting it. He turned to the soldier. “At ease, as you were, Private McFeely.”

“We’ve been holding on to your mail for the last few months, Sarge. The company clerk was supposed to send back all the care packages to the families when the company didn’t all come back, but we haven’t been able to get the non-urgent mail out, so’s I’m just delivering everyone’s mail,” McFeely said, digging into the bag, shifting through a collection of letters and small packages tied together with hemp string, until he found one marked for Bucky. “Here you go, Sarge.”

“Thank you, Private,” Bucky said, taking the package and setting it down beside him on the cot.

“Hey, Cap, if you wouldn’t mind, sir, I mean, if you have a moment later, I was wondering if you could sign my Captain America comic book?”

Steve grinned, flushing a little bit. “Sure, I’d be happy to.”

“Thanks, Cap! See you later, Sarge!”

Bucky had cut the rope holding the letters together, flipping through them. They were all opened, of course, had gone through the military censors to make sure that the content was appropriate. Steve noted that a couple of letters had thick black lines through the sentences.

“Got a bunch here from ma and my sisters; bunch from you, too,” Bucky said, smiling widely. He unfolded a magazine clipping and hooted. “Well, lookey here, Captain America making time with Lana Turner!”

Bucky held up the cover to _Hollywood Confidential_ _Magazine_ , showing a picture of Steve wearing a tuxedo, and looking quite dashing, if he could say so himself, the actress Lana Turner wearing a glamorous gown, holding onto Steve’s arm.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Come on! Spill!”

“I really liked her, she was a nice girl,” Steve protested, chuckling softly. “She liked romance, but she didn’t want me to be her boyfriend or anything like that. She was fun to go out with because we could just play up the romance part, but at the end of the night, I only walked her to the door and she only kissed my cheek.”

Bucky stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

“What?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Anyway, what people always said about Hollywood being the land of make believe, well, that part’s true,” Steve said, shrugging. He patted Bucky on his back and stood up. “Read your letters; I’ll meet you in the mess tent for dinner.”

Bucky grinned, looking up at him. “All right.”

Steve walked to the tent flap and stopped when Bucky called his name.

“You should think about asking Colonel Phillips to put a team together, get back out there after HYDRA and give them what-for.”

He nodded, it was something he had thought about proposing. He wanted Bucky with him, but he also didn’t want to stand in the way if Bucky was one of the lucky ones to be shipped back home. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself.

“Okay, see you later.”

“Yup,” Bucky called, leaning back on his cot, letters in his hands.

***

“So how did you get the nickname Dum Dum in the first place?” Steve said, as he walked out of the mess tent with Bucky, Dugan, Morita, and Gabe Jones.

Dum Dum Dugan laughed, setting his round bowler cap on his head, and stroked his large handlebar mustache. “I used to be part of a traveling circus, back in the day, and I started as a roustie then the circus strongman. They called me Dum Dum because none of them could properly pronounce my full name.”

Steve cocked his head. “What is your full name?”

“Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan!”

They all stared at him and broke out into laughter.

“I’ll stick with Dum Dum,” Bucky said, chuckling.

“It’s no better or worse than being called Bucky,” Steve said, looking at his best friend.

They laughed at the way that Bucky made a face, but he took the joke good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, all right, Captain America.”

“Captain!”

“Cap! Sir!”

Steve smiled as the group of soldiers saluted him on their way into the mess tent. He returned their salute and noticed that Hodge didn’t even give him a second glance.

“You see that?” Dum Dum said, slapping his hand on Morita’s chest. “An enlisted man not following proper protocol in front of an officer. What’s the punishment for something like that you figure?”

“Sounds like a violation of Article 89, _Disrespect Towards a Superior Officer_ ,” Morita said, clucking his tongue. “Punishment could include a bad conduct discharge, forfeiture of all allowances and pay, or one year confinement.”

Steve sighed, not wanting to make a big deal into it. He still felt a little weird carrying the rank, especially surrounded by men who had earned theirs. “It’s all right, guys, Hodge doesn’t have to salute me.”

“Hodge? Is that the punk who tried to beat you down at Basic?” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes.

“Bucky—“

“Hey!” Bucky called out, his voice full of authority. “Private Hodge! You salute the rank, not the man, you get me?”

“I’m not a real Captain anyway. It was just part of the USO Tour—“

“Listen, pal, any man, serumed up or not, that jumps out of a plane into enemy territory on a suicide mission to rescue his buddy, who may or may not be still alive, and ends up busting out the whole damn company, deserves to be saluted properly,” Bucky told him, looking over at the other men, who had stopped to watch the proceedings, nodded in agreement.

They all turned and gave Hodge a hard stare.

Hodge sucked in a deep breath, straightened his stance, and met Steve’s eyes, giving him a proper salute. “Captain.”

Steve returned the salute sharply and nodded at Hodge. He rolled his eyes at Bucky. “You don’t have to stick up for me, Buck.”

Bucky chuckled, raising his eyebrow. “I heard that they’re gonna pin a medal on your chest and give you a field commission.”

“How did you hear that?”

“One of the Colonel’s clerks told me. Phillips sent off a memorandum to the Department of the Army to get one of the bigwig Generals or a Senator to sign off on it,” he said, lips pressed into a wide smile, eyes bright with amusement. “By the time we get to London, they’re gonna make you a real Captain, Stevie.”

Steve blinked in surprise as Morita, Jones, and Dugan slapped him on the back, congratulating him.

“I guess if you’re gonna be our CO, I can’t go around calling you Stevie any more, huh?”

He rolled his eyes again and curled his arm around Bucky’s shoulders – Steve was taller than him now so he could – and laughed into Bucky’s ear. “I’m always gonna be little Stevie Rogers from Brooklyn, you know that, right?”

Bucky gave him a sidelong sly look. “Not so little no more, though.”


End file.
